


Bad Luck Pasta

by Miss_lestrudel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cooking, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Pasta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_lestrudel/pseuds/Miss_lestrudel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To break or not to break?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Luck Pasta

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Hetalia fic! Lord help me... haha
> 
> I hope you enjoy!~

          “NO!”

          In a matter of seconds Ludwig was slammed up against the wall with a handful of raw spaghetti in his fist and a startled face. The pasta was pulled quickly from his hand and dropped in the pot of boiling water.

          “Are you crazy?” Feliciano yelled; Ludwig still in shock.

          Feliciano was usually never this serious or determined. It actually scared Ludwig (though he’d never admit it).

          “Uh-erm no?”

          “Breaking pasta!” Feliciano exclaimed throwing his hands up and then stirring the softening noodles with a wooden spoon.

          “Is that- bad?” Ludwig asked, finally pushing himself from the wall.

          “Bad?” He exclaimed again, now muttering quickly in Italian.

          “I don’t- I don’t understand though. I was just breaking it to fit it in the pot.”

          “It fits.” He said pointing inside the pot.

          Ludwig saw the pasta cooking and swirling around, perfectly fitting in the pot.

          “I still don’t understand why breaking it was so bad.”

          “It’s bad luck.” Feliciano said, his face finally softening to the one Ludwig knew and loved.

          “That’s an odd superstition.”

          Ludwig immediately regretted saying it though, because  _of course_  Feliciano was superstitious about pasta.

          “Says the man who’s afraid of old ladies.”

          “They are evil!” Ludwig exclaimed, grabbing him by the waist.

          Feliciano smiled and turned around.

          “You should always be nice to  _donne anziane_! They'll make you decent pasta! Unlike someone I know…”

          At that, Ludwig cracked a smile and brought him in for a deep kiss. Feliciano giggled and slid his hands into the German’s hair ruining its perfect gel. Ludwig’s hand rested on the other man’s hips, thumbing the edge of his shirt.

          The pasta ended up overcooking. Ludwig now has a spoon-shaped mark on his forehead.


End file.
